Chapter 152: Joke Shop (1/2)
”You can't reply to that.” Lupin said to Chris and Ron. ”Dumbledore warned me about this.”
”But Harry will be worried.” Hermione said. ”He'll do something stupid if we don't tell him anything now.”
Chris sighed then looked at the letter.
”When is he coming here?” she asked to Lupin. ”He'll come here, right?”
”Yes. He will.” Lupin replied. ”Dumbledore will inform us about when we can bring Harry here.”
”Alright, then.” Chris nodded. ”We'll wait till then. I'll not write back to him.”
As soon as she said that, Hedwig peaked in her finger.
”Ouch!” Chris pulled her hand back. But Hedwig angrily hooted and peaked again. ”Hedwig! Stop.”
”What's she doing?” Ginny said, shocked.
”She's going to cut your fingers off.” Ron said but then Hedwig turned to him and peaked his index finger. ”Ow!”
”Ron! Christina! Wait.” Lupin pulled his wand out.
”No, don't hurt her.” Ginny said.
As Hedwig tried to peak Chris again, Leon came in, he must have heard Hedwig's angry hooting sounds. Leon flew around Chris's hand protectivly.
”Looks like we're about to witness a owl fight.” Fred grinned. ”Leon will win.”
”I vote for Hedwig.” George said. ”Five Gallons.”
”Deal.”
”Shut up both of you.” Mrs. Weasley said angrily. ”I'm going to stunt them both.”
”Mrs. Weasley stunning them can be extreme.” Chris said, then she turned to Hedwig and Leon, who were really ready to fight. ”Hedwig, I'll write back to Harry but not now. Be a little patient, stay here if you want, okay?”
As Chris and Hedwig's eyes met, Chris smiled at her, and she calmed a little. At least for now, the situation was under control. Though, at night, Leon didn't let Hedwig to stay in his cage, so she had to stay in Ron's owl, Pigwidgeon's cage.
Next morning, Sirius didn't return from Little Whinging, Chris didn't write anything to Harry, and Mrs. Weasley called all of them to clean the drawing room, after breakfast, as they had already cleaned the bedroons.
The drawing room was a long, high-ceilinged room on the first floor with olive-green walls covered in dirty tapestries. The carpet exhaled little clouds of dust every time someone put their foot on it and the long, moss-green velvet curtains were buzzing as though swarming with invisible bees.
”Cover your faces and take a spray,” Mrs. Weasley said, pointing at some large bottles of black liquid with a nozzle at the end. ”It's Doxycide. I've never seen an infestation this bad — what that house-elf's been doing for the last ten years —”
Chris saw Hermione throw a reproachful look at Mrs. Weasley at these words.
”Kreacher's really old, he probably couldn't manage —”
”Talk plenty of nasty things, even at this age.” Fred said. ”Didn't he?”
Hermione opened her mouth but then decided not to reply, and started working as Mrs. Weasley instructed.